


Necessary

by MoiraiThanatoio



Series: House of Odin [6]
Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: BAMF!MommyLoki, Family Drama, Gen, M/M, Mommy Issues, Pre-Slash, World Security Council are dicks, You gotta trust somebody...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraiThanatoio/pseuds/MoiraiThanatoio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are necessary - a safe place to rest, people to trust, and the actions that show our intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary

“It’s not me, Rhodey!”

“Who else could it be? Tell me that! Who else has any interest in playing six degrees of Tony Stark?”

Tony rubbed at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to walk straight over to his bar and make a drink. Sobriety would be easier if people would stop making him want to escape. He looked out the windows, blindly, not registering his landing pad or the skyline of New York.

“Can you just trust me on this? It’s not me… It’s not my company.”

James Rhodes dropped his crossed arms in defeat and then really thought about what his friend had just said. His hands anchored on his hips, he accused, “You know something.”

Tony just sighed.

“If you know something, you need to tell me!”

“I don’t know anything… There are possibilities, but that’s not what your bosses want to hear.”

Dropping his arms, Rhodey instructed, “Jarvis, load the image files I sent over, please.”

Pictures began to fill up the window area, the glass darkening slightly to provide definition against the skyline. Militants, combat, the after effects of combat… and some type of oddly green sand in each and every picture.

“You did an amazing job, Tony… The weapons caches that you took out saved lives. But you were never going to get all of them. Just tell me who you sent to take care of the rest.”

Tony reached out, hand coming close to several of the pictures before it dropped back to his side. There was no reflection to betray the confusion on his face. It was the specific hue of the weapons remains. It was a shade present in every good memory of his childhood. 

“I didn’t send anyone.” The answer was almost of whisper of not understanding. 

“They’re walking out of the mountains and surrendering. Stark tech that wasn’t purchased legitimately is dissolving into this sand stuff.”

Rhodey pointed at a specific picture and it enlarged. “We opened those crates and the weapons were gone. I don’t know how you did it, some kind of targeted nanotech, whatever. It’s never gotten one of our pieces and the whole game has changed for us over there.”

Turning to face one of his oldest friends, Tony wondered how much the truth would cost him. “It’s not me.”

“Tony, we’ve arrested sixteen people in connection with your kidnapping in the last month. People that would have gotten away with their part in it – planning, logistics, intel. They just walked up to our people and confessed. They were more scared of whoever you sent than they were of their own people. I don’t care if it’s a guess, but tell me what is going on here.”

“Are you asking as Rhodey or Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes?”

“Tony…” His voice was pained, but Rhodey scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “I can tell the brass that you don’t have any part of this… but as your friend, I’d like you to trust me.”

Tony nodded. “Sit.”

Rhodey’s look warned him to stop playing.

“Sit,” Tony repeated. “You’re going to need a drink for this. Hell, I’m going to need a few drinks for this. And maybe you’ll still trust me when you walk out of here.”

***

Thor was pacing in their break room. There was a static charge building in the air – the kind that came right before a massive lightning storm. 

“Just calm down, big guy,” Clint cautioned. His hands were saying ‘ease it up’ though his feet were clearly the smarter ones as they had him backing away. “Agents have a tendency to run their mouths, doesn’t make it true.”

Thor gestured, pointing a finger sharply in Clint’s direction. Static sparked between Barton’s upraised hands and he dropped them to his sides, rubbing them hard on his pants. 

“If it is true, then this is betrayal. To prevent me from reaching my kinsman is nothing less than the worse…”

“That’s enough!”

They both turned to look at Steve Rogers. He’d stepped into the room, his arrival unnoticed against the backdrop of the brewing argument. 

“Thor, Clint isn’t responsible for this. We have a commitment today and you’re going to make us late.”

Thor straightened, his shoulders and head reflecting a regal disdain. “A mockery of public spectacle…”

“We agreed,” Steve bit out. For the normally pleasant man to be on the cusp of losing his temper… it was quelling. The Asgardian stared deeply at his compatriot, comprehending their situation. “We agreed and we will be on time.”

Steve sighed. “I don’t want to go back to being a dancing monkey, but the Chitauri caused a lot of damage here. It’s our duty to make that as easier on people as possible.”

Coulson cleared his throat, his presence at the door immediately noticeable. “Wheels up in five, people. Captain, Thor, please pick up your gear and meet us at transport. Barton…”

Clint protested immediately, “Hey, no one said anything about my being there.”

The sharp look from Coulson shut him up. 

“Security, Barton, gear up and meet us there. Romanov will be present as a PA for your appearance and you will refer to her as Ms. Rushman.”

Steve frowned. “That seems awfully complicated for…”

Coulson cut him off. “We move in five,” before turning around and walking off. 

The frustration in the room had no release and was still crackling as they sullenly went to their assignment.

***

When the transport van was moving and Coulson was up front as their driver, the tension racketed up. It was a break from the usual, though the team was mostly taking their cues from Clint on this one. He’d let out a casual, “You haven’t been much for the vans since Tripoli,” and gone tight and mission ready at Coulson’s lack of reply.

Steve held his own counsel until the van took a turn, entering an alley and then sliding through the entrance of a private garage. 

“Phil?”

Clint’s voice had then all readying for weapons, but it was the response that was even more concerning.

“Not yet. I will inform you when we are secure.”

They held their silence, the collective breath of the vehicle still and deep. Their van went to the bottom level of the garage, turned down into a maintenance nook, and the wall opened in front of them. As they kept a slow even pace down a tunnel that lit as they progressed, the weight of the situation seemed to magnify. 

Then, just as it seemed they could tolerate nothing further, they came to a halt and there was a green flash from the tunnel. The van rose, not under its own power, as they were lifted up several stories by machinery grinding softly in the background. When it stopped, Coulson eased them forward again. 

He put the van in park shortly after and turned it off. With a deep breath, he released the wheel and spoke without facing the team. “It’s safe to speak now, but I’d rather you waited until we get upstairs and can explain everything.”

Clint reached out from the front passenger seat, grasping Coulson’s wrist with his left hand. He didn’t need words and Phil met the gaze calmly. 

“All green, Agent.” There was a telling pause. “Now, at least.”

Clint just nodded, opening the van door. The team piled out in echo, their surroundings softly illuminating another underground parking garage. Off to the side, there was the quiet ding of an elevator and the whisper slide of metallic doors. 

Inside was a gleaming logo, chrome and glass. They were in Stark Tower.

***

“The band’s all together again.”

Soft and introspective, the words broke the uneasy silence of the conference room. The elevator had opened onto a silent hall, Coulson leading them until the door panel beside a door had flashed green and allowed them entry. 

No one had quite known what to say, so they just sat and waited. 

“Dr. Banner,” Steve stood to greet the new arrival. “It’s relieving to see you again.”

Bruce shook the outstretched hand, running his other through his hair as he shrugged. “In one piece, you mean.”

Steve winced, enhanced hearing had picked up a few rumors he wasn’t entirely comfortable with back at headquarters. 

“It’s why I’m here,” Bruce confessed. “And why you’re here, as well. Tony is… occupied… so I’m going to get you settled.”

***

Hours later, Steve leaned against the glass in the common area watching the lights of New York City glow in front of him without truly seeing them. They all had rooms here; rooms they apparently needed in a place that no one would make any attempt to harm his teammates. No matter how nice, he preferred this open plan common room with its too plush seating and expansive view. The slight curve and rise of the Iron Man landing pad was to his right, a sheltered garden to the left, but straight ahead was only city. 

Catching a shadow on the glass, Steve straightened up but didn’t turn away from the view. “Thank you, Tony.”

“You say that like there was any other choice.”

Steve turned, watching as Tony crossed from where he stood to the bar. He poured two drinks before bringing them over to the window. 

Taking his silently, Steve kept his observations about alcohol and its lack of effect on him to himself. This drink wasn’t about that. 

Tony was staring at him in silence, waiting for something.

Steve finally nodded, acknowledging Tony’s earlier words. He raised his glass, the lights from outside glinting in the ice. “To sanctuary.”

Tony just shook his head, but raised his glass as well. “To the Avengers.”

They finished the drink in silence, the night wrapping a cocoon of peace around bruised souls. 

But it could never last…

“Sir?” Jarvis prompted from the ether. 

“Yes, dear?” Tony asked glibly.

“Confirmed match to parameters.”

Tony hung his head for just a moment, exhaustion visible in every line of his body. Then, as easily as putting on a suit of clothes, his manner shifted. “Show me.”

The glass changed as Steve watched, building lights muting as it displayed the sleek set of a news desk. It was clearly meant to appear technical and modern, but surrounded by the best in futuristic design… Steve was unimpressed.

A very intense grey-haired man in a suit was gesturing sharply at an overly coifed blonde. The sound cut in mid-sentence, the ire in the man’s voice clear. “…a charade, clearly intended for what purpose? We don’t know. All we know is that a man with a stranglehold of a large portion of this fine nation’s economy and with undefined connections with the US government is not human.”

“Not. Human.” The emphasis was clear in the repetition. 

Tony’s hand went flat against the glass, muting the words but the man was still visibly spewing his vitriol and now the hostess was nodding along with a deeply concerned look. 

Steve reached out, knowing that any second his gesture could be batted away. That the defensive cloak of indifference could come back up to shield his friend. But he had to try – had to attempt to reach inside before he was closed out. 

Tony didn’t resist, even as the hand settled on the back of his neck while his head remained bent forward. 

And in the instant that Tony looked up and met Steve’s gaze, Steve knew he had seen some light flash in the depths of those dark eyes. He held his ground, a faint pressure pulling the shorter man to him. Tony went, holding Steve’s stare until the last second. 

In the darkened room, with the flicker of a television feed and the lights of New York observing, Steve held the him in a loose hug and ignored the deep breaths burning into his shoulder. 

“Turn it off, Jarvis,” Steve instructed.


End file.
